


Closer to Free

by Emika



Series: Power Play [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Family, Family Reunions, Fanart, Gen, Illustrations, Original Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit, Sisters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 07:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18425391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emika/pseuds/Emika
Summary: A Marine, a pirate, and a revolutionary walk into a bar... no, that's not a joke. That's simply Kasuha and her family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ManicSourDrop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManicSourDrop/gifts), [Necon_Rada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necon_Rada/gifts).



Kasuha had two problems: her sisters, and her sisters’ shitty sense of time.

She was supposed to be in her office right now, manning HQ while Smoker and Tashigi chased down a crop of rookies too dumb to dock elsewhere. Instead, she’d slipped out into the humid afternoon, and promptly wasted one and a half hours outside a tavern in the Slums.

A stout, oblong building with cracked brickwork and a leaking, tin roof, the Soggy Cloth was aptly named. She sat opposite it, now, on a crumbling stone wall framing a cobbled road. It was as dreary-looking as the rest of the Slums.

Frustrated, Kasuha thrust a hand into her bobbed hair; pale fingers stark against the mocha strands. If Suza and Saskia didn’t haul ass, and _soon_ , Smoker was going to find her. And, that was the last thing she needed right now. Sure, Kasuha, Suza and Saskia weren’t blood sisters, but their bond had been forged by something much more permanent: shared pain. But Smoker wouldn’t see that.

Each representing the three sides of the same war, Kasuha _could not_ be caught fraternising with her seriously infamous sisters.

“You could always become a pirate,” Suza had said, months ago now. “That way, we wouldn’t be apart for so long.”

A perfect solution—except Kasuha wanted to be a Marine. Her sisters may be her heart and soul personified, but Kasuha would not relent them this. The Navy was the steel in her bones and the ambition in her blood. That wasn’t about to change so soon or so easily.

Kasuha glanced up the cobbled road, mismatched eyes—one a honeycomb brown and the other a startling cobalt—drawn to a looming shadow in her peripheral. Her grin was immediate. Even at a distance, Suza was hard to miss.

Standing at six-one, her eldest sister was a mountain; her shoulders and chest wide like tree trunks, and her thighs thicker than oak branches. Her size wasn’t just for show either. With 400 million berries on her head, Leonerra Suza was a New World veteran.

Jumping to her feet, Kasuha raised her arm joyously, and started forward.

Up close, Suza was smattered with fine scars; the brutalised flesh standing stark and silver against skin like umber. Her smile was as crooked and as sharp as the gills slashed across her throat, and she had eyes in the loveliest green. Chartreus, Kasuha’s mother might have called them.

“You’re late,” Kasuha accused sharply as her memories rolled off her back like rainwater. “ _And_ alone. Where’s Red?”

“You know Saskia. She does things in her own time, at her own pace,” she said, shrugging idly. Her voice was all butterscotch cream and melted chocolate; smooth, warm and so far from the crass _shit_ that came out of most sailor’s mouths.

The Pirate Empress, Suza’s adopted mother, probably had a hand in that.

Unimpressed, Kasuha cocked an arched brow. “That doesn’t explain why _you’re_ late.”

“We were blocked by a storm,” Suza said, slipping her hands in her trouser pockets. “Saskia had to take us the long way around.”

That, at least, sounded like a more reasonable excuse. Loguetown was close enough to the Grand Line that spontaneous storms were more common than she would have liked. Just last week, a hurricane had endured and battered Loguetown’s mediocre docks for almost four days. So, it wasn’t like Kasuha could get pissed off at the weather. But she imagined Saskia had tried.

Kasuha sighed. “Whatever,” she said. “Let’s just head inside before someone sees us.”

* * *

Framed by a long, polished bar, and a row of booths nestled against the rear of the room, the Soggy Cloth was much better inside than its crumbling exterior suggested. Round tables filled the open spaces, their legs bolted to a hardwood floor scratched with age, and sweaty walls were banked by tall, shuttered windows. Behind the bar was an old man, his wrists and shoulders bone-thin beneath his baggy sweater. But his eyes were sharp as Suza and Kasuha made their way towards him.

“Basil,” Suza greeted dryly, dumping a generous sack of coin on his bar-top. “I trust that you’ll keep our little reunion secret?”

Shrewdly, Old Man Basil squinted at the sack, then back at them. In a gruff voice, he said, “You’re light.”

“Red will cover the rest when she gets here,” Suza promised, settling her hip against the bar’s cracked lip.

Old Man Basil was an expensive bastard, the kind of man who clung to his purse strings with all the might of an Emperor. But, for all that he was greedier than most pirates, his silence could still be bought. Wealthier than Kasuha because _reasons_ , Suza and Saskia usually paid the cheque. Lately, however, his demands had skyrocketed, and Kasuha wondered if it was time to find another cheapskate to hide their secret.

“If she pays coin of equal value or less, then you’ll still be light,” he said, lifting the sack with a wrinkled, gnarled hand. “Recently, you two have been causin’ a lot of trouble in that New World of yours. So, if I’m going to stick my neck out for you by hiding you in here every other month, then I expect to be paid _handsomely_ for it.” Slowly, his sunken-in eyes settled on Kasuha. “Especially since I’m hiding _her_ involvement with you.”

Kasuha grimaced. “How much are we talking?”

“Triple this,” he said, shaking the sack. “At least.”

“You’re a real rip-off,” Suza said, glancing at Kasuha. “How much do you have?”

“I have a little bit, but not much. And if I go back to HQ now, someone might get suspicious.”

“Damn.” Scrubbing a big, black hand over the shaved half of her head, Suza came to a reluctant decision. “Just, give me a moment.”

Basil looked like he might argue with her, but he thought better of it at the last minute. Kasuha couldn’t blame him. If she was in his position, she might’ve hesitated too. Strong-arming a pirate, let alone one of Suza’s calibre, was not something you did thoughtlessly.

Suza fished out a Baby Den-Den Mushi from her pocket, the snail small and mottled with hot-pink spots. Drowsily, it raised its eyes one at a time, and blinked slowly like it’d never seen her before. Ignoring the snail, Suza opened a call. In seconds, the snail had grown long, wine-red curls, and its mottled shell had deepened into a no-nonsense black.

Saskia answered. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time.” Her voice was rough, and Kasuha couldn’t tell whether it was from exhaustion or from the call’s enduring static. She must be quite a distance away. “I hope this is important.”

“How many berries do you have?”

“Why?”

“Basil raised the price again.”

The snail’s face soured. “By how much?”

“Triple.”

“You’re joking.” Her tone was flat.

Irritated, Suza scratched the back of her head. “I really wish I was.”

Saskia made a frustrated sound, low from the back of her throat. “Yes, I have enough. But I don’t know how long I’m going to be. I’m still trying to lose the Scaly Bastard.”

“’Scaly Bastard’?” Kasuha frowned. “You don’t mean Dr—”

Abruptly, Suza clapped a hand over Kasuha’s mouth. “Don’t,” she warned her. “Remember: professional accountability. If you don’t say his name, then you won’t be lying to your superiors if asked about this incident.”

Kasuha’s jaw clenched. It wasn’t that she was naïve, per se, but sometimes, certain details about certain things escaped her. Still, that didn’t mean that she was comfortable about the idea in the first place. It was one thing to mingle with Suza and Saskia, but another thing entirely to outright ignore _Dragon_.

Still, that brought one question to mind: what was Dragon, of all people, doing in Loguetown?

“Aw, shit. He’s seen me.” Saskia’s brutal determination wavered then, and never had Kasuha heard her sound so _tired_. “I’m heading out. Be there soon!”

The call ended with a resounding _click_.

Frowning, Kasuha stared at the snail, then tilted her head; mismatched eyes crossing Suza’s disgruntled face. Call her forgetful, naïve— _whatever_. But she wasn’t so green to not understand that that call was strange. Even Basil, standing still and spindly like an underweight gargoyle, seemed interested as well. Catching her eye, Suza just looked _resigned_.

“What’s going on?” Kasuha asked at last. Her voice brooked no room for argument. “Why is he chasing her?”

Suza looked heavenward, like she was searching for strength.

“Su, come _on_.” Basil might not have been there, for all that Kasuha cared. “I’m not a child.”

“But you are a Marine.” Her voice cracked through the air, an accusation as much as it was a fact. “There’s only so much I can say without jeopardising your career.”

Kasuha clenched her teeth. “I still want to know,” she said, her brow furrowed. “She’s my sister too.”

For a good, long moment, Suza stared her down. Kasuha couldn’t read her. Not beyond the challenge in her eyes, at least. Then, like a tide, her decision turned. “Saskia,” she began, just as the door banged open.

Nemal D. Saskia strode in like she owned the place, brow arching.

Unlike Suza, Saskia was neither a mountain nor was she comparable to any great, lumbering tree. Instead, her shoulders were slight beneath her blouse and her breeches hung loose around a tapered waist. She stood no more than five feet tall, and had a face made up of clean, straight lines; her skin a warm, caramel-brown. Kasuha’s mother might’ve called her beautiful, if she didn’t have the hard, yellow eyes of a soldier.

Those same eyes landed on Suza now, and they were _pissed_.

“Saskia, _what_?” she asked, and now that there was no Den-Den Mushi static between them, Kasuha realised her voice was _worlds_ hoarser than she remembered; all desert sand and smoker’s cough.

Idly, Suza shrugged. “I was going to tell her the truth.”

“I thought we’d agreed that we wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, but that was before she put up a fight.” Suza dropped a heavy hand on Kasuha’s shoulder, gently squeezing. “Frankly, she made a solid point.”

“And, what might that point be?”

Suddenly, her attention was on Kasuha, and if Kasuha was a lesser woman, she might’ve cowered. But Kasuha had survived violence worse than Saskia’s ill-mannered temper, and thus, stood tall and unafraid in the face of her boiling mood. In that sense, she wasn’t so different from her sisters after all.

“You’re my sister too,” she said with all the simple conviction of someone who saw the shades of grey in a world that tried rigidly to be black and white. “If you’re trouble, or if you’re danger, I want to know.”

Saskia’s answering quiet was pointed, pregnant, and even Basil, still hovering on the fringes of their botched reunion, had a hard time eavesdropping. Her cunning had that effect on most people. But Kasuha knew where she stood, understood better than both Suza and Saskia the lines she would and wouldn’t cross for them. It was about time they saw that too.

Then, the tension snapped, and Saskia’s shoulders hung loose and exhausted at her sides. “I’d hoped that we’d have a pleasant reunion, but this is really bothering you, isn’t it?”

“Of course.”

“You’re still so kind, even after all these years.” Shaking her head, Saskia reached into her shirt and drew out two, heaping sacks of coin. Dumping them on the bar-top right in front of Basil, she started to a booth nestled in the far corner of the room. “Come on then. Let’s get this over and done with.”

“Hang on,” Kasuha called out. “I want to do this right. I want to know everything. You can trust me with your secrets. Both of you.”

“Sis, we know that.” Turning around, Saskia’s eyes were now infinitely soft. “That was never in the question. But you asked us to be careful with what we do and do not share with you. This is us being careful.”

Frustrated, Kasuha raked both hands through her short, choppy hair. “I _get_ that. I do. But, come on. No more half-truths. I want to know everything.”

Sharing a heavy, loaded look with Suza, Saskia sighed. “If I do, I can promise you that you’re not going to like it.”

In the dimness, Kasuha’s eyes were steel. “I’ll deal with it.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sat opposite her sisters in the booth, Kasuha picked out a few things she’d missed before. Bags hung below Suza’s eyes, as though she hadn’t slept in weeks, and sweat darkened the roots of her pale pink hair. Saskia, on the other hand, seemed more focused than ever, almost skimming the line between crusade and obsession. Then, there was the curious foulard knotted around her neck; sunflower-yellow and painfully familiar. Kasuha just couldn’t figure out why.

Saskia reached for it now. Wedging her fingernails into the bulbous joint, she loosened the knot with a hard, deft yank. Slowly, it unfurled, and as she slid the bright cloth off her shoulders, horror pierced Kasuha’s heart like a knife. Because there, slashed across her throat, was arguably the most awful scar she’d ever seen. Red and puckered, the raised skin stretched almost as long as the length of her hand and opened at least two inches wide. And for Kasuha, who handled weapons regularly, it wasn’t hard to imagine what kind of serrated blade had caused a fissure like that.

No wonder Saskia’s voice sounded like sandpaper.

Slowly, Kasuha raised her hand, as though to cup her own face, but seemingly changed her mind at the last possible moment. Instead, through the strangled air in her windpipe, she said, “But, your Observation Haki.”

Out of the three of them, it was well-known—to Kasuha at least—that Saskia had the better Observation. Her range spanned a few miles in radius and was very specific. Pairing that with a near instantaneous reaction-time, and a decidedly useful Devil Fruit, getting close enough to, not only surprise Saskia but to actually injure her as well, was a feat only a small pool of people could honestly achieve.

Not that Kasuha believed her sister was untouchable—she had, in fact, gotten her ass kicked all over the Grand Line more than once—but that aside, Saskia really did have some of the best Observation she’d ever seen. And considering she’d built a career around being able to get under people’s skin and digging through their secrets, her enemies were far from few.

So, when Saskia answered, Kasuha wasn’t sure who she’d expected the culprit to be, but Marshall D. Teach—Blackbeard—hadn’t been it.

“I don’t understand,” she said because frankly, that made about as much sense as a pink ocean did. “He’s a Whitebeard Pirate.”

“He was a Whitebeard Pirate,” Suza said coolly. “Until he committed the worst crime a pirate could ever enact: he killed his own nakama.”

Kasuha’s brow creased. “But what does that crime have to do with Saskia?” she asked, turning those startlingly mismatched eyes on Suza. “What am I missing here?”

Stiffly, Saskia raised that infuriatingly familiar foulard between them, its wrinkled corners dripping like oil paint from her white-knuckled grip. Her voice, when she spoke, was coarse with a thousand different things; but beneath it all, was a grief so terrible and so new, it was a raw, pulsating wound. “I was involved with one of Whitebeard’s commanders.” She started shaking, her entire frame rattling in her seat. “He was the man Blackbeard killed. I was collateral damage.”

Slowly, Kasuha’s pupils dilated. “Involved? As in—”

“No, no. Not like that.” Her lips pursed thinly. “Thatch was my friend.”

Croakily, Kasuha echoed, “Thatch?”

And suddenly, that foulard made so much more sense. Of course, it had been familiar. It’d belonged to him; as much a part of the Fourth Division Commander as his ridiculous pompadour and whirling goatee had been. And now Saskia had it. Kasuha couldn’t decide whether that was sweet or tragic. Either way, her heart ached for her grieving sister.

Reaching across the scratched, rosewood table between them, Kasuha gently laid her hand over Saskia’s trembling fist. “I’m sorry,” she said, unable to spare no other words. There were none. Nothing that’d fill her broken heart, at least.

Sighing shakily, Saskia gathered her bearings. As she did, Suza picked up the conversation.

“After Blackbeard took down Red and Thatch, he left Whitebeard’s crew.” Suza leant her arms against the table-top, fingers lacing together slowly. “That happened, what, ten months ago now? And I only caught wind of the news a few months after that—when Red was still in recovery. The second she was out, we went after him.”

“Wait, hang on. You’ve both been absent from your separate territories for at least ten months?” Surprise lit Kasuha’s face. “How is that even possible? The Navy would’ve noticed by now.”

“Our crews are operating as per normal,” Saskia said, looping the foulard back around her neck. Some of her steel had returned. “Of course, that didn’t stop Dragon from finding out that I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”

Lowly, Kasuha whistled. “I imagine he must be pretty pissed off.”

She nodded. “Then, I go and fly both me and Su head-first into one of his stupid electrical storms.” Irritated, she flicked her hair off her face, wine-red curls draping heavily behind her shoulder. “He knew I was in the area straight away.”

Unable to help herself, Kasuha laughed. “You know, his electrical storms aren’t exactly small.”

“Really? What gave you that idea?” Saskia sagged in her seat. “In any case, he’s just made our reunion a thousand times shorter, and a lot more complicated. If it weren’t for his dumb face, we would have arrived here on time. Instead, he was chasing my ass around the island for over an hour. I have to admit, I’m exhausted. I don’t even know if I can get Su and me to the next island without flying us straight into the ocean.”

“It’s fine. I can swim us there for the rest of the way.” Suza’s grin was the shit-eating kind.

Saskia was decidedly unimpressed. “I’m a Devil Fruit Eater. I’ll drown.”

“Nah. I’ll carry you.”

Humming, Saskia said with pure, unadulterated confidence, “I’m going to drown.”

Biting back another laugh, Kasuha steered the conversation back on track. “So, who else is with you? Diana? Oasis?”

“Huh?” Suza cocked her head. “Nana and Oasis aren’t with us.”

Saskia nodded. “Yeah. Right now, it’s just Su and me.”

Alarmed, Kasuha’s eyes sparked. “You’re alone? Blackbeard took down a Whitebeard commander. Is going after him by yourselves really a good idea?”

“We’ll be fine,” Suza said cockily, a crooked smile kissing her lips.

Kasuha might’ve slapped her if she wasn’t right. Of the three of them, Suza could make the biggest, grandest, and most absurd claims throughout the Grand Line, and she’d prove it. Between earth-shattering brute strength, a seemingly unbreakable Armament, and a naturally durable constitution thanks to her half-Fishman lineage, Suza made a difficult opponent. Then again, Kasuha shouldn’t be surprised. In another life, had she’d accepted the World Government’s unwanted invitation, Suza would’ve made a ferocious Warlord.

Still.

“It’s still reckless,” Kasuha said, sitting back. “Red, come on. You’re not like Su. You’re not invincible. You have to know that this is suicide.”

In spite of Kasuha’s genuine, half-panicked concern, and the overwhelming grief on her shoulders, Saskia’s mouth twitched into something like a smile. “It’s nice to know that my baby sister cares about me so much,” she said, leaning back so she could get into her trouser pocket. She came out with a crumpled carton of cigarettes, and an intricate, silver lighter. “But we are going to be fine. Really.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because we’re not the only ones after Blackbeard,” Saskia said his name like it was vile, like it was poison against her tongue. Perhaps it was. “Old Fire Face is after him too. And, I have Fire Face’s vivre card. So, where he goes, we follow.”

“Fire Face? As in, Fire Fist Ace?” For an instant, all Kasuha saw was a freckled, handsome face, kind, brown eyes, and a smile bigger and brighter than the sun itself.

“Yep.” Suza popped the p with more gusto than necessary. “He was actually the one who told me about what happened to Red.”

Quietly, Kasuha asked, “You know him?”

“Yeah. He and I started out at the same time. Butted heads for years before he joined up with Whitebeard. And even then, old habits die hard. Sometimes, we’d brawl for old times’ sake. He’s a good sparring partner, but a better friend.” High-praise for someone who liked men about as much as she liked the heat. Which, frankly, wasn’t a lot. “He was Blackbeard’s Division Commander, and he wants his head just as much as we do.”

“Is that how you’ve been tracking him?”

“Yeah,” Saskia said, her full lips pursed around a live cigarette. Smoke curled in waxy plumes around her face, passing through the air like fog. “When I healed, Whitebeard gave me two things: this foulard, and Ace’s vivre card. Said he was my best shot at finding Blackbeard. Su found me not long after that, just before I reached the Blues.”

“I still don’t like those odds,” Kasuha admitted, grimacing.

“We warned you,” Suza pointed out.

“I know. I know. And I am dealing. But, shit.” Her eyes dropped to the table-top, drawn to the spindly cracks webbed through the wood. “Blackbeard sounds like a real piece of work.”

Suza snorted loudly. “He’s a little bitch, that’s what he is. He’s never had to earn his power or work hard for it. He’s stolen it, and walked all over the people in his life to obtain it.”

Kasuha’s instincts recoiled at that. Sure, she hadn’t made a name for herself as Suza and Saskia had, but that didn’t make her less than them. She’d had a late start, that’s all. But she would catch up to them, she was determined too. Unlike Blackbeard, she wasn’t going to do it by cheating or through deception. A Captain, Kasuha had struggled and buckled and brawled with the very best of them; hefting herself through the Navy’s imposing ranks as much as possible, for as long as she’d been a Marine. Her sights were set on Vice Admiral, and she was going to get there. Or she was going to die trying.

“I—”

Abruptly, Saskia’s head snapped towards the door. For a long second, the Soggy Cloth was dampened by a quiet so oppressive, it was almost loud in its heaviness. Then, her pupils exploded wide. A panicked warning formed on her tongue, shaped her lips, but it was no use. Her voice was drowned out by a thunderous roar as the door exploded off its hinges; splitting through the middle as it banged into the opposite wall.

A dense fog rolled in.

Squinting through the increasing dimness, Kasuha’s blood steadily turned to ice. Because there, ducking into the room with more arrogance than Suza and Saskia combined, was Dragon. He was huge, taller than Kasuha could have ever expected, with brick house shoulders wrapped in a long, green cloak.

As he walked, his boots hit the old, creaking hardwood heavily, and the air crackled with power so potent, she tasted it on the back of her tongue. For a terrifying instant, his shiny, black eyes met hers through the fog. Kasuha thought she knew fear. She was wrong. Then, those same eyes were skimming past her and firmly settled on his wayward, adopted daughter.

“Saskia,” he said, arching a single brow slowly. For the life of her, Kasuha couldn’t understand how Saskia had survived a man like him, let alone call him _father_. “It’s time to come home.”

“Yeah, nope. Not today.” Saskia flicked Suza a loaded look. Suza’s answering nod was barely-there. If Kasuha hadn’t been so close to them, she might’ve missed it. “I have to sort out some business first.”

Dragon took another step forward. His long, unsmiling face sent shivers down Kasuha’s spine. “Your brother misses you.”

Saskia stiffened. “I’m sure he does,” she said tersely. “I miss him too.”

“Make this simple, then.”

“No.” Her head snapped towards Suza. “Now!”

Faster than one might’ve expected from someone her size, Suza turned sharply. Her arm, black with Armament, was raised as she powered through a hard, ferocious punch. Her fist connected with the wall beside them, and if Kasuha didn’t know her sister as well as she did, she would’ve been horrified by the resulting carnage. The stone and mortar exploded in a maelstrom of debris; her punch blowing open a massive, crumbling hole.

The very room quaked from it all.

Then, it was Saskia’s turn.

Curling her hands at her sides, a red light swelled in her fists. And, detonated. Eclipsing the room in a lurid mist, Kasuha stiffened at what felt like a dozen invisible hands slotting squarely around her waist. Saskia’s telekinesis, it seemed, was as unsettling now as it’d always been.

“Red, you don’t have enough juice—”

Suza’s voice cut out into a loud, girlish scream as Saskia ripped all three of them off their feet. Hefting them through the big, gaping hole Suza had made, Saskia wrenched them into Loguetown’s humid skies. Kasuha’s stomach dropped out her feet and, before she could help herself, a squealing shriek peaked the winds crashing around her. Instinctively, she flailed, her arms and legs pinwheeling violently as the more rational part of her brain wailed that they were going to _fall_ and _die_.

“Kasuha!” Saskia’s voice, sharp and loud even through the pelting winds. “If you keep squirming like that, I’m going to drop you!”

Blanching, Kasuha’s panicked thrashing went pointedly still. Swells of cloud raced past them as Saskia propelled them higher and higher; monochrome shapes swathed thickly across a cerulean sky. In other circumstances, it might’ve been beautiful; an excuse to break out her oil paints and a fresh, clean canvas. But, frankly, Kasuha could barely think through the terror lodged in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t that she was necessarily afraid of heights, but there was something finite about being thrust thirty thousand feet in the air. If she had to be frank, Kasuha had never been more aware of her own mortality than now.

And, that wasn’t even counting on the fact that Dragon was still after them.


End file.
